¿Mixed Chemistry?

Chap

Professor Dumbledore quickly made his way from Gringotts into Harrods. The clerk in the men’s department looked at the strange looking wizard before deciding to help him. Besides, who would turn down a cash payment? The young man chose a dark blue Emporio Armani suit for the longhaired long bearded wizened man. Not too shabby, the clerk thought to himself.

“May I walk out with this suit?” the professor asked as he gave the young man 150% of what the suit was worth.

“Of course, Sir,” the young man said as he folded up the wizard’s robe as neatly as possible.

The professor took the packed robe from the young man and nodded. He took out the long wand and shoved it nonchalantly up the sleeve of his new suit. Awfully uncomfortable, he thought. Why would muggles want to keep themselves bundled up like this?

He entered the Leaky Cauldron. The patrons whistled at the old wizard. He just bowed and went towards the fireplace. He dropped the floo powder and boomed out, “Café Olla.”

The old man exited the fireplace. “Buen día, Señor Dumbledore,” the barrista said to the recognized old man. Professor Dumbledore nodded a greeting, exited the café, and walked into the streets of Sevilla.

* * *

He had sensed her, as aurors sensed other aurors. The cleaning spell was quite short but he was able to hone in on her.

He bought several muggle newspapers and waited. He watched the pair exit the building. They talked about the weather and what the school day would bring. The long white haired wizard nonchalantly followed the two to the Garcia Lorca Escuela Secundaria. Beautiful architecture, he noted to himself as the two young teachers entered the school building.

He walked past the building and headed straight back towards her apartment building. He entered the small pastry shop across the street fronting the apartment building.

He bought a dozen assorted pastries to start and a black coffee. He took a seat at one of the tables and started reading the first of his large stack of periodicals.

The café staff didn’t mind that the old man looked quite odd in their small little pastelería. As long as he kept buying their products, they were okay with his presence.

Professor Dumbledore had read all of the papers from front page to the classified ads. He noted that no strange acts of violence were reported. Draco had honored his end of the peace treaty. He had spent the whole day in the café drinking a bottomless cup of coffee and eating fifty or so Euro worth of pastries, getting up only for the occasional trip to the restroom.

He had watched the couple walk back into the apartment building. He had seen the young black haired teacher exit alone clad in much of the same type of suit that he himself had on.

“Uh, Señor, as much as we love your business, we’re about to close up,” one of the clerks said as another finished his sweeping chore.

“Of course,” the old wizard smiled looking at the 0800-2100 hours of operation sign. He placed an overly generous tip on his table and picked up his stack of papers; tossing them into the café’s recycling bin.

The children had fallen asleep already. She dressed in her sleepwear: a pair of long shorts and a New York Yankees baseball jersey, one she had gotten on a trip to New York with her parents. She looked at the two angelic sleepers.

She went back out to the kitchen, making sure her bedroom door stayed open so she could hear them without having to use the baby monitors. She finished washing the dinner dishes. She looked at her hands. The ring on her finger glimmered. She held onto it as if she thought it would slip down the drain.

While other twenty seven year olds like Juan were out partying on a Friday night, she was exhausted. She heard a knock at the door. A quarter after nine; who would be calling this late at night? Maybe if she didn’t answer the door, they would just go away.

She turned to face the front door and was surprised to see the familiar face in such unfamiliar clothing. She stood rooted to her spot for a while, not believing what she was seeing.

The older wizard broke the silence, “Charming place you’ve got here, Hermione.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” she said a little shakily. “Please come in.”

“Yes, well, we do have a lot to catch up on,” he said heading towards the kitchen in which she stood.

“Would you like some tea, Sir?”

“Yes.”

“I would ask you to conjure it up seeing as you are in a hurry to leave,” she suggested.

“No,” he smiled. “Stove top tea the muggle way will be fine. That way we’ll have time to talk.”

“Professor, there’s nothing to talk about. I’m here. I’m alive. That’s all you really need to know. You and I both know it’s not safe.”

“Haven’t you heard the news, Hermione?” the old wizard said sitting down at the table. She pulled some cookies from a tin.

“The war has ended,” Professor Dumbledore said taking a bite of a cookie.

“Ended?” she asked her knees almost buckling under her. She held onto the back of one of the chairs to steady herself.

“Yes. Harry and Draco,” he noted her eyes widening at the mention of the young grey eyed wizard, “signed the peace accord last night. Fighting has ceased. Even your muggle papers have noticed it.”

Hermione couldn’t help herself. The tears flowed uncontrollably. The professor stood up quickly to keep her from falling. He held her in his arms comforting her before helping her find her seat. She was still crying when the hot water pot whistled. The professor made tea for the both of them.

“There, there, Hermione. The Wizarding World is now safe.”

“My life is here now, Sir, where I belong,” she said not looking into the wizard’s eyes.

“You are the best young witch I’ve ever seen, Hermione. Don’t turn your back on that gift.”

“What gift is that, Professor? I have a dead husband and dead parents because of it.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I don’t want to see anybody else that I care about get hurt.”

“Your family needs to know that you’re okay. Harry, Ginny, the Weasleys; they haven’t let one day go by without checking the missing files listings put out by the Ministry.”

“Have you told them where to find me?” she asked in a small voice.

“No. I just found out myself after you did your cleaning spell. I’m impressed, Hermione. Three years under the radar.”

“Please don’t tell anybody, just yet, Professor.”

“They’ll want to know eventually, Hermione,” he said as he heard a little cry.

Hermione looked up at the professor. She hurried past him, picking up two bottles of milk from the warmer. She tested the contents of both bottles on her skin as she walked to her room. The professor was in tow.

She closed her eyes as she picked up Draden, rocking her to calm her down. She gave both of them their bottles and the two adults watched them go back to sleep. Professor Dumbledore observed the two little people. Even in the slight light, he could see every line and feature of each child. He smiled to himself.

The young witch walked silently out of the room. The professor followed a little after. He just smiled sincerely at her.

“Professor,” she tried to find the words to try to explain.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Weasley,” he said calmly.

“I have a lot of baggage, Professor that I don’t think I’d like to burden Harry or Mum, I mean, Mrs. Weasley with.”

“I don’t think they would consider them a burden, Hermione.”

“I know they deserve to know I’m okay. And they will,” she said choking back tears. “I just need time, that’s all.”

The professor looked at her nodding. “They really care about you. They really do, you know.”

“I love them, too, Professor.”

“So tell me about this Lorca school that you teach at,” he said smiling, changing the subject, putting her at ease.

She told him everything: school, the students, her best friend Juan Carlos Torres. The subject eventually changed to her life and the twins; although she didn’t reveal everything. She felt safe telling him. She knew he would keep her life private and would allow her to share it with Harry and the Weasleys when she felt ready.

It felt like they had talked into the night. Hermione found herself with her head resting on her forearms on the kitchen table. Had she slept there the whole night? Was her visit from the old Hogwarts Headmaster just a dream? It must have been; she tried telling herself as she got up to make some coffee.

She saw the hand written note by the drying teapot:

Tried to wash it the muggle way. Finally gave in to magic. It was too confusing. We’ll be hearing from you and the kids.
Dumbledore
P. S. Thanks for the tea.

She shut her eyes. She kept reminding herself how Professor Dumbledore would never tell a soul. She took hold of the note and placed it in her desk drawer as she heard one, then the second twin wake up. She went to see her children.